Strolling along the native runways in the fringe of jungle just beyond the beach, as was his custom, to see whatever he might pick up, the steward had picked up Kwaque.

And he had picked him up in extremity.
Pursued by two very active young men armed with fire-hardened spears, tottering along with incredible swiftness on his two spindle legs, Kwaque had fallen exhausted at Daughtry's feet and looked up at him with the beseeching eyes of a deer fleeing from the hounds.

Daughtry had inquired into the matter, and the inquiry was violent; for he had a wholesome fear of germs and bacilli, and when the two active young men tried to run him through with their filth-corroded spears, he caught the spear of one young man under his arm and put the other young man to sleep with a left hook to the jaw.

A moment later the young man whose spear he held had joined the other in slumber.
The elderly steward was not satisfied with the mere spears.

While the rescued Kwaque continued to moan and slubber thankfulness at his feet, he proceeded to strip them that were naked.